Someone’s Gotta Do It
July 28, 2007 by Shirley Allard
death comes knocking
at the door
pain and suffering
are no more
relations come
and quickly flee
leaving death
alone with me
tired eyes
impending doom
shallow breaths
a sterile room
compassion whispers
“go to sleep,
seeds you’ve planted
now you’ll reap”
a hand is held
now cold and frail
awaiting death
the final nail
as one last sigh
escaped your lips
death’s grip released
my fingertips.
I now understand your passion for meter. This is very well-written and rhythmic. While the subject matter is often considered maudlin, I sense no hint of remorse or dedication to negative energy. Nice piece…
I am definitely what’s labeled a ‘rhyming poet’. Ya gotta love it…and I do! Thanks Bob.
shirley, this is perfect… i hear the reason in it all,, the elusive prevalence of what is, and should not be a source of fear.. beautiful….
Thanks Jodi…to die is the only thing we’re guaranteed in life and still it’s the one thing we try the hardest to get out of! When it does come I think it really sad that anyone should be alone in their last moment…and so I sit when there is no one else to hold their hand. Sometimes family members do not want to watch the process that a natural death takes…I don’t blame them!
Someone doesn’t “gotta” do it.. but, thank god some people, like you, do it anyway. This poem was so real - like being there - it was almost hard to read. The end gave me chills…
My brother’s were with my dad when he died. I was pregnant and finally left his room for a bit at their requests. I think, he didn’t want me to see him go. I was with him every other step but that final one. I’m both grateful that my brothers handled that part for me… and sorry for them at the same time. sorry for rambling… you must hear stuff like this all the time… what I really wanted to say was nice writing.
Hi Sam,
You’re not rambling. You’re feeling what I wrote and that is the ultimate compliment to me as a poet. Thank you!